The disaster referred to was described at the time as “a disaster occasioned by the most culpable carelessness.” It was, unfortunately, attended with frightful loss of life. The Orion, a splendidly fitted and powerful steamer, sailed from Liverpool for Glasgow, on Monday afternoon, 18th June, 1850, with about 170 passengers in addition to a crew of 40 all told. It was an ideal summer trip; the night was fine and clear, and the sea perfectly smooth. All went well with the steamer and those on board until, about a quarter past one on the Tuesday morning, the sleeping passengers were rudely awakened by the concussion, as the ship struck violently on the rocks, close to the Lighthouse at the entrance to Portpatrick Harbour. The vessel, which was steaming at full speed at the time, filled instantly, and sank in a few minutes. The night was so tranquil that many of the passengers had slept on deck, but the majority were asleep in the cabins below when the catastrophe occurred. The scene of horror and dismay which followed can be but faintly conceived. A wild rush of crew and passengers was made to the boats. The first boat lowered to the water was so crowded instantly with panic-stricken passengers, that she capsized, and all who were in her were drowned. A second boat was launched, in which some ladies were placed, and these reached the harbour safely. One redeeming feature in this tragic narrative is the splendid heroism displayed by many of the gentlemen passengers. The second boat when launched was in the first instance filled by men, but when the officers of the ship suggested to them that their first duty was to save the women and children, most of the men instantly left the boat, and assisted females to occupy the places they had surrendered, who were thus happily preserved.

Shortly after this boat got away the ill-fated Orion sank, and all on board either went down with her, or were left floating on the surface of the water, or clinging to floating portions of the wreck.

The Ardrossan and Fleetwood steamship Fenella passed the scene immediately after the disaster occurred, and the Captain at once stopped his ship, lowered his boats, and rendered valuable assistance in saving lives. The Lighthouse keepers and Coastguards had also observed the vessel coming too close in shore, and, anticipating a catastrophe, had awakened the local boatmen. Owing to this, numerous boats had instantly put off, and these picked up a large number of those floating. By the continued efforts of the Fenella’s crew, and the Portpatrick boatmen, about 150 persons were rescued. This dreadful catastrophe carried mourning into many of the most respectable families in Liverpool and Glasgow. Amongst those who perished were Captain McNeil (brother of the Lord Advocate), his wife and two daughters; Dr. Burns, one of the most popular men in Glasgow, professor of Surgery at the University, and brother to the Managing owners in Glasgow; Miss Morris, his niece; and Master Martin, a son of one of the Liverpool owners. The trial of the Captain, and first and second mates of the Orion, for the “culpable bereavement of the lives of the passengers” who were lost by the wreck of that steamer, as before narrated, took place at Edinburgh, before the High Court of Justice, on the 29th August, 1850. It was proved that during the second mate’s watch, the vessel approached closer to the shore more than was usual by upwards of a mile, and that this course was maintained notwithstanding the warning exclamations of the experienced seamen who were on the look out.

It was further proved that the Captain had come on deck several times during the second mate’s watch, and each time had observed both the compass, and the ship’s proximity to the shore, which could be clearly seen, and yet did not countermand the second mate’s instructions.

The charge against the first mate was withdrawn, but at the end of the trial, which lasted two days, the Court sentenced the Captain to be imprisoned for eighteen months, and the second mate to be transported for seven years.

It is a relief to turn from this sad story to an incident connected with the steamer Neptune,[21] of which the heroine was a young Norwegian girl, who has been appropriately termed “A second Grace Darling.” During the 25th, 26th and 27th November, 1852, a strong gale prevailed in the North Sea. About midnight on the last date the Neptune arrived off the Lighthouse at the entrance to Flekke Fjord, Norway. She was bound from London to St. Petersburg, and had the pilot flag flying at her masthead. Just at daybreak the steamer was observed by a young girl, who immediately called up two of the boatmen, who, however, were not apparently inclined to respond to the call.

The girl, however, realizing the urgency of the appeal for a pilot, reproached the men with being afraid of the weather, and under the pressure of her taunts they got their boat out to go to the assistance of the Neptune, the girl accompanying them. When they got near the ship they found that, owing to the heavy surge, it was impossible to get close to the ship’s side. A rope was thrown to them, and caught by the girl, who twisted it round her waist and arm, then jumped into the sea and was hauled on board the steamer; the two men thereupon followed her example. This help was most welcome, and the Captain was the more pleased to receive it owing to his cargo having shifted. With the assistance of the Norwegians the rest of the voyage was safely accomplished. There were eight lady passengers on board the Neptune, who made much of the Norse “Grace Darling,” provided her with dry clothing, and gave her a handsome donation in cash. The seamen and firemen also contributed three pounds (£3) for the same purpose, and on the return voyage she was put ashore at the place where she embarked, most fortunately with a considerable amount of cash in her possession, as her master refused to permit her to return to his service.

FOOTNOTES:

[21] For further particulars respecting this steamer, see the History of the Waterford Steamship Co. in Part II.